Ray Liotta looks like a Velociraptor.

Invisible Sheep: Pt. I

i'm not sure what this will be just yet.

maybe it'll end up being something larger

but for now, it's just something to keep my

mind from exploding during my finals.

enjoy.

Do Survivors Dream of 
Invisible Sheep?
(Part 1: Stand in the Place Where You Live...)

:by Sam Famolaro

            They said maybe it was some sort of biological weapon. Some kind of terrorist super-virus meant to decimate a large portion of the United States; meant to be an “extinction” kind of virus. They said that the terrorists under-estimated how quickly and efficiently the virus would spread. Some people said that it mutated after it was released and became a rampant epidemic like this world had never know.

Some people said it had already spread across the whole planet.

Some people said that it was the Rapture.

Either way, all those people are dead.

To be honest, I don’t remember anything about the so-called “attacks”. Everything I know now is just facts I learned from skimming through whatever newspapers were lining the empty streets of Sandusky, Ohio. I woke up after the car crash in the ICU at the Veteran’s Hospital downtown and my mind has been hazy at best. Everything seems to hum with warm colors and fuzzy translucent outlines. I had only been in the coma for a week, but the way things looked when I regained consciousness I might as well have been in a coma for years. It must have taken me a good two weeks to fully accept that every person on the planet whom I had ever loved was dead; lying in a pool of vomit & blood in the same spot they were when the virus took hold of their central nervous systems. Needless to say, I had very little interest in staying in Sandusky. I needed to know if anyone else is left.

So, on the morning of September 16^th, 2010, I packed all the items I felt I could carry into a backpack and my messenger bag, and left Sandusky, Ohio on bicycle heading Northeast. In my messenger bag, I carried a small thin black screwdriver and a laptop computer. At this point the computer is utterly useless, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to access an kind of electricity, but I can probably take it apart and find use for the parts. And the screwdriver, well… you remember that episode of the Twilight Zone where the guy survives the atomic bomb and goes to the abandoned library to read all the books he never had time to read before the bomb but then he drops his glasses on the library steps when he starts the first book and breaks them? I figure I might as well be prepared; my glasses have the tools necessary to be rebuilt. Faster. Stronger. We have the technology. Plus, besides the small revolver I stole from my old man’s deserted house, that tiny screwdriver is all I have to defend myself from whatever’s left. I don’t believe in zombies or anything, but I’ve read enough “doomsday” novels to know I should be prepared for anything from mutant motorcycle gangs to triffids. In the side pocket, I have a copy of Gustav Meyrink’s the Golem, which I stole from the abandoned Barnes & Nobles in Cleveland, and a half-empty box of bullets. A black Bic lighter, along with a pack of American Spirits I took off of a corpse two towns back, are stowed away in the inside pocked of my jacket. Buried in my backpack are both a glasses case full of glasses and a glasses case full of marijuana. I’ve been allowing myself 45 minutes of music (or one full joint, whichever comes first) a day, but sooner or later, my iPod is going to die and I’ll have to deal with the silence. Today’s album was Remain in Light by the Talking Heads. More than anything I can foresee, I think the silence is what scares me the most. David Byrne keeps singing about how the days go by. I can’t begin to describe the hours spent collecting the tens of thousand of illegally pirated songs that are currently on death row on my rapidly fading iPod. In retrospect, it all seems like such a waste of time, but before the “Rapture,” it was my only real obsession to speak of. Hanging from a clip in my messenger bag is a police-issue Mag-light and a small canteen. I have a heavy scarf, a gold & scarlet San Francisco 49ers beanie hat and an emergency blanket in my backpack in case it gets too cold to sleep at night. Not like I’ve been able to sleep anyways.

If you’ve found this, that means I’m not alone. So, that would be a plus. I made my way as far east as Binghamton, NY before I realized I was fooling myself thinking anyone would be left alive in Manhattan. If my calculations are correct, and I’m sure they’re not incredibly far off, it’s December 17^th, 2010. It’s starting to get too cold and too icy to continue going north on bicycle, so I’ve decided to head south to a more reasonable climate. I don’t know quite where I’m going to go, but at the moment, I think I’m heading for Virginia. If anyone is still alive and following my trail, I will do my best to attempt to lead you south. I am not ready to give up hope.

Keep strong and remember

that survival of the species is paramount.

I will continue searching for survivors.

Hopefully. If you’ve found this, you’re not too far behind.

Paul Berger

December 17^th, 2010

Trenton, New Jersey

heading due south on Route 95 South

toward Virginia Beach, Virginia.

My Favorite Album of All-Time... (Pt. I)

this is my favorite album of all-time.

i have always been known to speak in exaggerations,

so i may (and probably will) tell you the same thing

about a variety of other albums as well...

but THIS is the one, the one that changed everything for me...

i was somewhere in the range of 16 years old,

i was in Virginia for a family vacation that i had

no interest on being involved with.

while watching TV, i found this new station 

called MTV2, that actually played music videos

and the first video i saw was "El Scorcho" by Weezer.

Weezer at the time had been a pretty fringe band for me.

i liked the Blue Album alot

& i knew how to play "Say it Ain't So"

but other than that, Weezer was just another

band that wasn't Blink-182.

but that video & that song hit me right in the chest.

right place, right time, right on.

i went out to a now-defunct record store in Utica

& bought the album before i took the train to NYC

to visit my sister & on the 3-hour trip

this album single-handedly changed the way

that i wrote music to this day.

the guitar tone on "Tired of Sex" is so dirty

& "Getchoo" sounds like it was played on a chainsaw.

and it's not to say that the Blue Album wasn't loud,

but when Pinkerton wants to be heavy, it's fuckin' heavy...

Rivers was great back then at

pulling you apart with his lyrics.

everything he said was just so real,

but he was never afraid to sound vulnerable or silly.

& honestly, is there any question that

"Across the Sea" isn't the best sad song ever?

luv weezer

wish they wouldn't put out bullshit anymore.